


The Ring

by PrintDust



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:26:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2059203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrintDust/pseuds/PrintDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She moved towards the woods to search for the ring, her heart racing as she fought back the urge to panic or vomit- or both. A steady hand on her shoulder stopped her in place. Looking through a misty veil of tears her eyes met with Daryl Dixon's; she hadn't realized they'd had an audience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

No one knew how long exactly it had been since they had lost the farm to the herd of Walkers that had blown through it. They had been weaving their way across the state ever since, like refugees in a land that had been seized from beneath them. They sought refuge in empty buildings, curled up on the floor with their meager blankets, clinging to each other for warmth; it had become too risky to light fires most nights.

They scoured through ravaged kitchens, eating whatever they could find, their shaking fingers scooping sweet goopy beans or waxy vegetables from tins that they pried open with hunting knives.

Rick declared his decisions early each morning, gathering the group to their weary feet and moving on to the next place that they hoped would hold more opportunity for them to settle down, rest, and feed their starving bodies.

Despite her hunger Lori found herself battling nausea through most of the nights. Carefully, she would crawl out from her spot between Carl and whoever else, and step over the obstacle course of bodies until she reached the door that would take her to a place more private, usually outside. There was always someone on watch so she wasn't overly concerned about her lack of awareness of her surroundings while she heaved over the side of a porch or into a drain.

If it was Maggie or Carol on watch, she would have someone to hold back her hair while she retched. Glenn would pat her back and then help her to her feet once she was finished. He had taken to keeping a bottle of water with him so he would have something to offer her.

Daryl averted his eyes when he saw her coming out, though he never hesitated to follow her. He would stand a few feet away, a silent guardian with his crossbow scanning their surroundings for any danger. When she was finished he would make a crack about wasting good food, but his hand on her shoulder while he escorted her back inside betrayed his gruff exterior.

Lori wasn't sure what Rick would do. She protected herself from his probable apathy by suppressing her urge to vomit until after he was off shift. Puking her guts up every night was hard enough without having him give her the cold shoulder while she was doing it.

She wondered if it was the lack of sleep and dehydration that drove her close enough to insanity that she finally approached him on their third day staying in a small trailer park south of Atlanta.

"Do you think we could talk?" Lori approached her husband, her blanket wrapped around her shoulders in an effort to fend off the cold. The grass was brittle under her boots, small ice crystals shattering with each step.

Rick kept his back to her as he scanned the woods that surrounded their little camp. He didn't answer her but he tilted his head to let her know he was listening.

"I think we need to talk," Lori began, pausing to take a breath.

Rick's forceful sigh expressed his exasperation, and he cut her off. "I need space, Lori. You think you could do that? Back off for ten minutes and let me breathe? Jesus."

"I think you've had plenty of space," she answered, drawing on her courage reserves. Every self-preserving instinct was telling her to run, but she held her ground. "We can't keep doing this. It's hurting the group... Carl... And it's killing me."

"What do you want from me, Lori?"

She pursed her lips and hugged her blanket tighter. "I want you to look at me. And I want you to make a decision about us." When he didn't respond she reached out to touch his arm. "Rick," she tried again, keeping her voice soft- pleading.

He shoved her away, hard enough that she was forced to take a step back to keep her balance. Surprise registered on both of their faces, but his expression shifted back into indignation after a brief check that he hadn't done any physical damage.

Lori crossed her arms protectively over the tiny swell of her belly and turned to look over his shoulder. After a deep calming breath she met his eyes again. "I understand that you're angry, but-," she flinched as his jaw ticked and he rested his hand on his belt.

"But," he mimicked harshly. "Always a but with you. Can't ever be sorry without a but, can you?"

She shook her head, the first sign of tears beginning to build in her eyes. She blinked them back, just barely. "I didn't mean..."

"You want a decision about this, Lori?" Rick's voice was eerily calm as he avoided her eyes, his chest rising and falling steadily. He nodded, his lip curling. "I got a decision for you. Why don't you take your half-assed apologies, and your buts and your god damn," his hands collided with one-another and he yanked his wedding band off his left hand. "Take the whole damn thing 'cause I'm over it."

Without another word he tossed the gold ring high over her head and past the tree-line behind her. Lori whipped around to watch the gold flash disappear into the shadows of the green shrubbery as her tears finally escaped with a heavy sob. Rick stalked away, back towards the trailer where Carol was serving up dinner.

She moved towards the woods to search for the ring, her heart racing as she fought back the urge to panic or vomit- or both. A steady hand on her shoulder stopped her in place. Looking through a misty veil of tears her eyes met with Daryl Dixon's; she hadn't realized they'd had an audience.

"Ain't gonna go rootin' 'round in there; suns goin' down," he released his hold on her and jutted his chin in the same direction where Rick had gone.

Lori closed her eyes, trying to control her emotions. She didn't feel comfortable about crying in front of Daryl. Her resolve, however, did nothing to stop the next few tears that trickled down her cheeks and over her quivering lips.

"Get on back," he patted her shoulder, the gesture clearly awkward and uncomfortable for him. "Clean yerself up. Yer boy don't need to be seein' that neither."

Lori nodded and with a final glance towards the woods behind her she turned to shuffle back to camp where she joined the others around the small campfire for skewered possum and wild salad and then turned in early.

The possum gave her heartburn. She woke that night holding her chest as acid burned her esophagus and left an awful taste in the back of her throat.

Careful not to disturb Carol and her son, she climbed to her feet and headed for the thin door on the side of the trailer. She didn't bother with her coat or shoes as she slipped outside into the biting cold. Passing Daryl quickly, she rested one hand on her stomach and the other on her sternum. She barely made it a few feet from the trailer before she collapsed to her knees and retched, throwing up her dinner next to the still smouldering fire pit.

Exhausted and miserable she sobbed between each contraction of her stomach. Cold sweat formed on her forehead and in the small of her back, and her arms trembled beneath her slight weight; she was sure they would give out on her until toned arms slipped around her waist and guided her back until she was settled against a hard surface. He remained crouched in front of her, his arms at his sides as he watched her cry softly into her hands.

When she had calmed down enough to catch her breath she looked up to find him still sitting next to her.

"Gonna catch yer death sittin' out here," his eyes indicated her bare feet pointedly. "Or get the anal veins."

Lori's eyes widened a little and a small short laugh burst from her chest. "Thanks," she scrubbed her eyes with her palms. "Just what I needed, a visual of hemorrhoids."

Daryl didn't react to her sudden change in mood other than to shrug passively and move to settle against the log beside her, his poncho covered shoulder barely touching hers. "My Gran used'ta get 'em," he tucked his chin into his chest and hunkered further down. "Some nasty shit."

Lori nodded in agreement, a small smile making its way over her lips. She turned her face away to look at the ground before her. Every time she tried to look at him she would feel her throat begin to swell with emotion again.

"I uh," Daryl's voice took on a light tone, though his hesitation showed that he was nervous as he dug around in his pant pockets beneath his poncho. "I found this," he pulled his hand out and offered her his closed fist.

Lori hesitated for a moment before offering her hand. He dropped something small onto her palm and then retreated quickly, clearing his throat. As she stared at the ring in her hand he filled the silence. "Was gonna give it back to him, tell him to stop bein' such a dickhead, but," he shrugged. "Figured that weren't my place."

"Thank you," Lori folded her fingers around the gold band and raised it to hold it over her heart. She turned to watch him get to his feet and brush himself off before he trudged back to the trailer.

When he reached the trailer door he rested his hand on the handle and turned back in her direction. "Best get yer ass back inside. Don't wanna hear about it when yer up the duff and sick."


	2. Taking It Back

She woke slowly, feeling foggy and confused about where she was and why she appeared to be moving. The car dipped and bounced as one tire rolled into a pothole and she winced as her forehead connected with the window that she had apparently fallen asleep against. Blinking rapidly, she cleared her vision and took a moment to watch the passing scenery: a small town that didn't seem to be much more than a main street.

It had begun to snow again while she had been napping and she tilted her head up to peer at the heavy sky above them, its grey, pregnant clouds hanging low and swollen. Sitting back in her seat, she glanced around the car - Carol and Hershel were speaking quietly in the backseat over her shoulder, pointing out tiny shops that seemed to still be intact. Rick sat behind the wheel beside, stiff and silent.

Laying her head back against the seat, she allowed her eyes to drift half-closed and she watched the snow flakes drift over the windshield, wondering if they would stop here for the night. She hoped so; she was hungry and the car smelled like urine and sweat. She cleared her throat and reached for the bottle of water in the cup holder attached to the console, ignoring her husband's flinch. Contrary to his expectation, she remained silent and wordlessly settled back into her seat, lifting the bottle to her lips.

They had almost reached the edge of town when Rick tapped the horn, stopping the Hyundai and black pick-up that sandwiched them. Her husband, if he even was that anymore, slipped out of the car and waited for the other drivers to convene. Lori sighed and turned back to her window to inspect the store closest to them: a bridal shop. She inspected the mannequins in the window, posed to show and groom dipping his bride across his knee. The gown was simple and beautiful: floor-length, silk, with a dropped neckline; it reminded her of her own.

Slowly, she lifted her hand and slipped it under the neckline of her knitted sweater, her fingers finding the chain that was draped around her neck. Following the white-gold links she found the end and closed her hand around the gold band that she had secured there about a month before. The metal was warm from her body heat and she lifted the ring out, letting it drop onto her index finger, too loose to stay in place. Lifting it, she rested the smooth edge against her lips, a habit she had developed since it had come into her possession.

Her mind turned to that day, when Rick had pitched the ring into the woods in anger. As she turned the memory over in her mind she felt her eyes begin to water and she admonished herself. She wouldn't cry when there were others there to witness it – they didn't need her to burden them any further.

Instead, she fast-forwarded to later that night when Daryl had returned the piece of jewellery to her, his presentation both endearingly-awkward and self-conscious. The door popped open and she jumped at the sound. Scrambling, she tucked the ring back inside her shirt and wrapped her arms around her rounded belly.

"We'll stop here for the night," Rick's voice was gravelly as he turned the engine over and eased the car into line behind the green hatchback. They pulled around the block and into the alley behind the main shops. Rick slipped out first and began moving garbage cans away from the car, slowly placing them down noiselessly. Lori got out too, her hand bracing her protesting back. Her stiff joints and tailbone ached and she took a couple of careful steps around to stretch. She heard the springs on the back of the pick-up squeak as Daryl hopped out, his crossbow loaded and ready as he scanned the back of the alley.

When he made it to the small group, he glanced up and Lori followed his gaze to the fire-escape above them. A hand landed on her shoulder and she looked to the grimy calloused fingers first, and then trailed over a toned forearm, up over a muscular bicep to meet Daryl's face. He applied pressure to his hold on her and moved her, forcing her to take a step backwards. With her out of the way, he hopped up and grabbed the chain on the fire-escaped, the weight of his body pulling it down.

Lori grimaced as the metal ground against itself, scratching in the otherwise silent alley. Daryl and T-Dog took the lead and began climbing, followed by Carol and then Lori. The metal was cold and rusty against her bare hands as she began to climb, keeping her eyes upwards. Her exhausted and malnourished body was out of breath by the time she reached the first level and she was grateful to find the window propped open, signalling the end of her climb. T-Dog helped her over the frame and she muttered a thank you, wincing at the exhaustion in her voice.

The apartment was small and it took her less than a minute to explore the entire thing. She took her time in the bathroom, pausing to explore under the sink and the medicine cabinet. Using the empty garbage can she began collecting supplies: some unopened toothbrushes, a small first aid kit, and –on a shrug- a box of condoms; she figured Glenn and Maggie would be grateful.

On her way out she tried the taps on the bathtub and felt her heart pick up speed when the pipes groaned. The spout shuddered and vomited thick, rusty water into the porcelain bottom of the tub before going dry. Lori felt her shoulders fall in disappointment as she picked up her bucket to leave. She was almost out of the door when a solid thud sounded behind her followed by rushing water. Whipping around she steadied herself with her hand on the doorway and just watched the small clear waterfall spilling from the tap.

"Is that -," Maggie was suddenly by her side, and then pushing past her into the room.

Lori was jostled again as Carl and Beth fought their way into the bathroom too.

"Me first," Beth breathed, then met Lori's eyes and flushed, casting her eyes away shyly. "I mean... if no one else is calling it," she added softly.

"You're up then," Lori patted the girl's shoulder before heading back into the living room, smiling to herself.

The apartment was surprisingly tidy and clean compared to the accommodations they had become accustomed to. Lori sat back on her calves on the kitchen floor, listening to the sound of a freshly bathed Beth humming as she helped Carol prepare dinner. Lori had collected everyone's clothes one-by-one as they each took their turn bathing. She'd filled one large bucket with soap and water, and then another with fresh water to create a washing station. Rick's shirt in her hand seeped blood and filth, instantly colouring the water as she rubbed the fabric together.

Her back protested her position on the floor and she was looking forward to her turn in the tub. She just hoped there would be some hot water left for her.

When Rick came through, scrubbed clean and beard trimmed, she swept her eyes over him appreciatively. Tearing her eyes away she gave herself a mental shake – her second trimester hormones were definitely giving her a run for her money. She craved her husband both physically and emotionally.

"You're up," Carol offered her a hand up.

Lori looked down at the soaking laundry and hesitated. "I don't mind going last."

Carol's wiggled her fingers in response and Lori accepted the help getting to her feet. "Thanks," she whispered, bracing her back with both hands. The other woman motioned with her hand again and Lori slowly began to peel off her sweater, and then handed it over. She took a quick glance around and mapped out the rest of the group. Establishing that she was in the clear she quickly slipped off the rest of her clothes and dropped them one-by-one into the washing tub.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught Carol watching her and she glanced over, feeling an odd mixture of pride and self-consciousness. Her hand made its way over to rest on her bare rounded belly.

"I'm jealous," Carol laughed, turning back to the stove. "I was a hippo when I was pregnant."

Lori felt herself smile as she quickly slipped her necklace over her head and looped it over a handle on one of the cupboards. "I'm sure that isn't true," she assured the other woman on her way down the hall.

The bathroom was warm and steamy when she slipped inside and a small laugh bubbled inside of her at the sight of the tub. Turning the tap she watched it fill for a few moments before eagerly slipping inside, unable to wait any longer. Sliding down until her knees were bent, but her shoulders were covered she let her eyes drift closed.

One of the reasons Daryl suggested the apartment was the chimney that rose over the roof and ducked down into the corner of the living room, leading to a large fireplace. They ate, piled up on the couches and arm chairs, feeling warm, clean, and recharged. Lori wore an over-sized t-shirt and jogging pants, pilfered from the closet in the bedroom, her still damp hair braided and dripping over her shoulder. She kept her eyes fixed on her food, content in the room, silent with the exception of cutlery scraping against bowls.

They decided to turn in for the night and postpone cleaning up until tomorrow. Lori took the couch, leaving the bedroom for Maggie and Glenn who hadn't had a moment to themselves for weeks. Lori made sure to leave the condoms on the bedside table; the last thing they needed was another pregnancy slowing them down.

She was just drifting off, her hand drifting by habit to clasp the ring when she realized that she had forgot to put it on. Carefully, she stepped over her sleeping son and made her way into the kitchen to retrieve her necklace. It was still dangling where she had left it, glinting in the flame of the candle that had been left burning on the counter.

Picking it up, she slipped it over her head and started back to the living room, her fingers twisting around the chain. She froze mid-step when she realized that her locket was the solo charm dangling from the chain. Her first reaction was to panic, but she swallowed it back. Taking a calming breath, she glanced around the room. First at Carol - asleep closest to the fire – and shook her head: Carol wouldn't have touched it. Beth was quickly ruled out next… she frowned, and took another deep breath before turning to Rick, who was sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room, staring out the window.

Her eyes sought out his hand where his ring sat nestled comfortably on his finger for the first time in a month. Swallowing, she felt confusion first, until his eyes met hers and held them. Lori smile was watery and she quickly wiped her tears away, offering him a tight nod. Rick averted his eyes again, severing the first connection they had shared in what felt like a lifetime.

Sniffing, she swallowed her tears and stepped away, returning to the couch. She turned her back to the room and let the tears dribble unchecked over her cheeks, hope fluttering in her chest.


End file.
